What Do We Have Here Then?
by ElapsingSpiral
Summary: No explanation will be adequate. A drunken Arthur is very fond of his constabulary. The constabulary is not very fond of Arthur. Crack, utter. Swearing, groping, traumatised policemen.


**What Do We Have Here Then?**

"Oh," the policeman said as he turned to the new recruit, "One last thing you need to know about since you're working in the Metropolis now-"

"Racial integration?" the younger man offered eagerly.

"Well yes," the other said, almost dismissively, "Goes without saying-"

"Gun and knife crime?"

"Naturally. No, no, what you need to know is that you need to be on the constant lookout. Make sure you're ready should you meet a man called "Mr Kirkland"."

"Kirkland? What, is he a repeat offender?"

Curiously, his attendant officer sighed in an oddly weary yet not especially angered way. Rather than irritated by the gall of a man who dared to brazenly repeat offend he appeared to be almost embarrassed.

"No, well, not _quite_. He tries though. I mean he gives it a good go but... Well, I can't explain why, only the chief is allowed to know – national security, apparently - but we have to be a little lenient with him. Humour him, as it were," he turned to leave the office adding only, "But it's still a good idea to bring him back to the station to sober up in a cell. Kirkland – consider yourself warned."

_**Instance 1**_

"Officer! I say, officer!"

David looked down to find, not exactly to his surprise considering it was a Friday night, a man sat on the pavement with a pint glass in hand and a rather dazed look on his face. As he considered the policeman, however, the man's expression seemed to become a little less baffled and rather more intent, mouth open in what appeared to be something of a leer.

"Officer! Oh heavens, officer?"

Cautiously, David approached the man's side, a hand on his walkie-talkie all the while.

"Can I help you sir?"

"Hoho," the man chortled, putting his glass down and placing a hand either side of him on the pavement to steady himself instead. He was fairly young, David saw this close to, a little younger than himself perhaps with incredibly prominent eyebrows and unusually green eyes that were wandering up and down the length of his own uniformed body in a rather unnerving fashion.

"Yes," the man agreed, "You can help," with a flailing motion as though swimming, the other man gestured to where he was sat, "I've fallen down you see! Awful! Horrendous, oh dear! But you," again the leer came back full force, "You seem a lovely, _strong_ young man. Do help a fellow in distress!"

Shaking his head rather and giving the glass a glance (only a half empty pint of shandy which hardly explains matters, David noted) he held out a hand to the man and pulled him up. The other's grip as he scrambled to his feet was oddly strong and vice-like.

"There we-"

He was cut off mid-sentence as the man, just as he had come to his feet, stumbled in a rather violent fashion as though pushed from behind, falling fully against David's chest. He felt the wind knocked out of him, partly by the force of the man falling against him and partly by the hands that opted to scrabble at his chest and then, momentarily, further south in an apparent attempt of the man's to right himself.

"Oh I am _ever so_ sorry! Goodness," the man put a hand dramatically to his own forehead and swayed on the spot for a moment as though by way of explanation, "I was overcome with dizziness! Thank goodness you were here to catch me," and, causing David to part sigh, part whimper, the man's eyes roved over him once more, "with your big... strong... arms."

"Sir, you are under arr-" surprising even himself David paused in delivering the familiar words to pose a question instead, one that he found himself practically able to answer already, "...You wouldn't happen to be a Mr Kirkland would you?"

The man gave what David supposed was an attempt at a coy smile but, with his shirt hiked up halfway up his stomach revealing an unfortunate tattoo of a flame-licked guitar and his trousers unbuttoned the effect was less than perfect.

"My my, however would you know a thing like that?" the man attempted to purr, pausing to cough midway through, "Do I have a reputation? I thought you were going to arrest me," he put his hands at before him, the fingers appearing to make a grabbing motion as opposed to staying still and passive, "Fair cop guv," he gave a little wink and David did his best not to look horrified.

"No. Um, I am going to have to take you back to the station I think sir. Just for your safety," as he said the words David realised that this naturally meant being in the same car as the man and he found himself suddenly quite happy about the plastic "glass" divide between the front and back seats.

"Oh, such a nice man," the man beamed, trotting alongside the policeman, apparently ready for the off, taking about five steps instead of two to accommodate a little veering to either side en route, "You know, it's very curious but this seems to happen an awful, awful lot to me."

"You don't say?" the man grimaced, nodding ahead of them down the road, "the car's just up the road –sir, that would be my backside."

"This pavement is so uneven, I keep falling! I am everso, everso embarrassed!"

Satisfied that the man would scarcely recall any of this tomorrow David finally let a scowl fall over his features.

"Christ."

Once back at the station with Mr Kirkland safely stored in a cell David found a file had been placed on his desk. On a quick perusal the file to be the records for Mr Kirkland - absolutely clean, not even a driving or littering offence to be found. Still, they were slightly unusual for the post-it affixed to their cover.

"Massive poof," it warned, "Fancies officers. WATCH OUT!!!"

_**Instance 2**_

David tore down the street at the sound of the scream being emitted, just around the corner from where he stood. With his heart racing he thrust his head down further and made the corner to find-

Bugger.

He instantly regretted his rather over-eager approach and loud, thudding footsteps when he saw how they attracted the attention of Mr Kirkland. He gave up his small effort to turn around before making eye contact and tear away the way he'd come. Coming to a halt he hung his head and let the man come to him.

Flailing rather and weaving enough more than the first time they'd met, the man had a heartbroken and horrified look in his wide green eyes. When he came to a halt in front of David, the man seemed lost for words for a few seconds before, with a jab at what David realised was a gay club, he found his voice.

"Ladies'," the man took another deep breath to get the rest of his tortured sentence out, "Night. Just," he shook slightly with apparent strength of emotion, "Ladies. Women. Everywhere. They," his voice turned to a whisper, "They were _everywhere_. Oh but now you're here!" he said with a gratified sob that rather made David want to resort to sobbing too.

"Yes, Mr Kirkland."

"Oh, _you're here_ Daniel-"

"It's David actually... How do you-"

"Oh that's right," Mr Kirkland said, smiling dreamily as he appeared to momentarily forget his own trauma, "He's the tall blond one with the dimple in his chin..." David watched as the man blinked and roused himself out of his reverie, shaking once more, "Oh but they were _everywhere_ and they had," here the man made vague gestures with his hands at chest level, "And no," the hands drifted to his crotch, "But now you're here David. Oh," appearing to wipe a non-existent tear from his eye Mr Kirkland gave him a doleful look, "Oh I need someone to hold me... So horrid... Awful!"

"Mr Kirkland would you like to come with me?" David sighed wearily, "I...Just follow me Mr Kirkland."

The man reacted like a dog promised a walk, walking alongside the policeman with a beam of a smile on his lips and a bounce in his step.

"Your hand doesn't rest on my hip Mr Kirkland."

"Oh," Mr Kirkland glowed as he removed the hand in a manner which connected with as much flesh as possible before resting back by his own side, "Where are my manners_?_ Call me Arthur."

David didn't take to the name. Arthur. Mr Kirkland actually being a bloke called Arthur gave him the feeling that he was going to become a fixture in his life.

"Alright. Arthur just... just come with me."

_**Instance 6**_

"We've got some young white male causing a scene outside a bar. Apparently he was hogging the jukebox and someone else complained and asked to put their own music on. White male then proceeded to cry bitterly about not being able to listen to Queen and Mika when he wants to. Said something about them speaking to his very soul-"

The pair in the car looked at each other as the radio transmission ended. The older officer grimaced.

"Arthur."

"Oh god," David muttered. The older officer raised an eyebrow at him.

"Oh so you're already familiar with him?" the man nodded expectantly, "Go on then, your turn."

David gave him his best heartbroken look.

"Please, no. I'll stay behind and do extra paperwork. I'll clean those mouldy mugs. Oh come on – have a heart! I'm married!"

"No no," the older officer seemed hard pressed to contain a laugh and opted to simply pat David on the arm instead, "No. You know what they say - Chief says he has to have special treatment for god knows what reason. Well, he'll be delighted with a nice pretty thing like you," the man gave him a wink, "Go get him tiger."

"Bugger."

He located Arthur by the sound of his wailing, punctuated only by colourful curses flung at the bar and its owner. As he got closer he managed to pick out the odd phrase among the wailing and the flipping of the V sign. Apparently, the proprietor of the establishment was a charlatan, a crook, a swindler and just not very nice, the wanker, the complete wanker.

"Arthur," he said, trying to not look directly at the man, standing several feet away and doing his best to ignore all the puzzled glances he got from passers-by at his presumably ill-suppressed look of mortification, "Arthur calm down and get over here."

"He is such a twat! I just like a bit of Shirley Bassey, what is the fucking problem?! He is a cock-" at his own choice of curseword Arthur stopped in his tracks and slowly his gaze panned around to David. With a beatific smile he glided over to the officer, troubles forgotten.

"David!"

"Arthur."

"It's been so long!" the man said, holding his arms open in a hug David ignored, his eyes hurting from having squinted his eyes marginally in pain for so long, "So very long old chap!"

"It was last Tuesday."

"Hoho," the man chortled, doing his usual trick of leaning against him as they walked back to the patrol car, "Well it feels like forever."

"Hands, Arthur."

"So sorry, I'm just shaking with rage still from that-"

"Yes, yes I know," David interrupted, "Just get in the car."

"Ohh," Arthur bit his lip saucily, "So rough with me David," from the front seat David heard his partner snicker.

"Well-"

"But that's alright," Arthur overrode him, stretching out "seductively" on the back seat, "Because I do rather like it rough."

Sliding into the passenger seat beside his partner David gave a soft sob.

"Does it-"

Starting the car the other man gave a firm shake of the head.

"No. Never gets bearable."

"Fuck."

_**Instance 14**_

"And that's the tour of the station. Do you have any questions?" David asked the new officer, young enough to still be looking around with a rather proud, dazed expression on their face.

"Not really, thanks for your time."

"Not at all," with an inner smirk David realised the perfect way in which to bring the young man – tall, brunet with full lips - down to earth with a crash, "Oh, just one thing I ought to warn you about... Keep an ear out for the name Kirkland."


End file.
